


An Unlikely Friend

by shinee



Category: Brian Eno - Fandom
Genre: Brian Eno - Freeform, Eno - Freeform, Orange, Oranges, Other, Talented musicians, citrus, citrus fruits, orange character, orange color, orange colour, orange fiction, orange smell, orange story, orange taste, orangey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 07:09:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8153368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinee/pseuds/shinee
Summary: A young Brian Eno is without friends-- and so he compromises.





	

Dodging the pouring rain with his umbrella, Brian scuttled past pedestrians on his way to the academy. His polished black shoes kicked through puddles as he hurried himself passed buildings and people. He was late to only his second day of year six. His ill-fitting sweater vest and dress pants hung off of him like a paper bag. He was quite nervous. His first day hadn't turned out as well as expected: Everyone at school seemed to have already made a friend, but not Brian.

As he zoomed past alleyways, nooks and crannies, one alley stood out to him in particular. While damp and grimy, and most certainly off-putting, a thick mist arose from it and his childish curiosity pushed him to investigate. Closing his umbrella into a spear, Brian inched his way down the alley, the little light in it now escaping. A wall of sound blocked out the outside world, and he was now alone. Clutching onto his umbrella, he used it to get a sense of what was in front of him, sometimes hitting a dumpster with a metal clang, or feeling the grasp of cold water when he stepped in a puddle. Brian could not see his surroundings, but certainly heard them. Water dripped from the rooftops of brownstones, and even a stream of water could be heard from the very end of the alley. Brian made his way to the stream, shivering in his sweater, his breathing slow and shallow. Brian muttered out the words, "Is anyone here? Hello?" afraid someone had been watching him, but there came no answer. This relieved him and he continued on towards the stream. The rushing water became heavier and heavier, now the only thing he could hear. He kneeled towards the water source, and when he felt around the slimy brick and drainage pipe for what had intrigued him to enter in the first place, he found something soft and leathery. He furrowed his eyebrows, his mind racing to what it could possibly be. A baseball? Maybe a soggy lump of paper? Brian had no clue, and ran out of the alleyway and back into the light of the bustling streets, when in his hand he found an orange. His eyes widened as he soon realized what he had found: A friend!

Brian skipped to school, overjoyed. The dread of the morning now washed away and he had absolutely no worries in the world. He did get a few funny looks during lunch, when instead of eating the orange, he gossiped with it about his classmates. Brian didn't care much what others thought of him and Orange, though. Brian didn't need anyone else, as long as he had Orange with him, the class fools' opinions were worthless.

* * *

"You see, Orange, that without you I would be quite lonely. I must thank you for that." Brian said while he cleaned Orange with a cloth. Brian walked down the narrow London streets, on his way home. His knapsack filled with heavy textbooks lugged behind him. Brian giggled to himself at one of Orange's puns.

"Maybe you'd like to meet mother? She's quite a nice lady." Brian asked Orange. He opened the front door and walked into the kitchen, where his mother was cooking supper.

"Mum, look at who I found this morning!" Brian beamed. His mother had his back to him.

"And who is that, honey?" She asked, stirring a pot of beef stew.

"Orange, you see! Look, he's a bit rotten in some spots, but otherwise perfectly fine. He's my new friend." Brian explained. Brian held up Orange to reach his mother. "Quite cute, isn't he?"

Brian's mother turned around when she heard the name "Orange". Maybe some eccentric name given to an unfortunate child? What she did not expect was a fruit. Brian stood in front of her, expecting his mother to be happy for him, but instead she scowled.

"What is this? Brian, an orange can't be your friend. It's a fruit. An object. Don't you understand?" She narrowed her eyes, now forgetting about the stove.

Brian tried to explain, "Well... that doesn't matter! He talks to me, he likes me. Isn't that what a friend is?" He held Orange to his chest, "I thought you wanted me to have friends..."

"No, Brian. Friends aren't- Let me have the orange. It's stinking and rotten. How about I get you a new one? Will that do?" His mother sighed. She began to worry what sort of odd attachment her Brian had now grown, and thought maybe it best to just get rid of it before it all escalated. She reached for the orange, but Brian leaped back, dodging her grasp. If Brian couldn't have Orange, no one could. He ran up the staircase, already on to her plan. His mother chased behind him.

"Brian! Get back down here this instant!" His mother cried. Brian darted through bedrooms, each time deciding on a different one to hole up in. First he chose the bathroom, but then realized it was too small for any sort of long-term encampment. The next room in the corridor was the master bedroom. Brian wouldn't dare go there under any circumstances, even if it was for Orange. At the end was his bedroom. Quite an easy choice. Brian shut the door behind him and propped himself up on his bed, hiding Orange in his pillow case. His mother banged on the door for what felt like hours, but thankfully Brian had been quick enough to lock it. Surely he would be punished for this later, but he had to do what was right. He couldn't let Orange be thrown into the bin like rubbish. For a few hours, Brian sat with Orange awaiting barrage at any moment until he dozed off, while his mother gave up, long ago.

* * *

The next morning Brian woke up with Orange next to his head, softly sleeping. He carefully placed Orange in his pants pocket and then got out of bed, crept up to his door, and quietly unlocked it. He pressed his ear against the door to make sure no one was nearby, tiptoeing out of the room and hopping down the staircase. Brian could hear who he thought was his mother shuffling around in the garage, and so his chance had come for him to escape with Orange. His mother had probably forgotten about the whole incident anyway. Hopefully. Brian decided that sitting around wouldn’t do him any good, and if this was his only chance, he would surely take it. With Orange snug in his pocket, he ran out the front door of the house and down the block. If mother had heard him, it was too late. Brian may be shorter than his mother, but he could outrun her with ease. Brian patted his pocket to make sure Orange was safe. He had forgotten to bring with him his knapsack, but it was too late now and Brian thought it a waste of energy worrying over it. Just as Brian turned the block corner, a tall man got out of a car, a man whose figure he faintly recognized. With purpose the man walked towards Brian, and with a quick sweep, he picked up Brian in his arms and walked back down the way Brian had gone. Brian thrashed in the man’s arms, and while doing this he saw a ring on the man’s finger. A silver ring, absolutely plain with no sort of engraving or jewel. He knew this ring… His father!

“Father?!” Brian exclaimed, still struggling out of his grip. Father did not utter a word. He huffed and grunted, clearly unenthusiastic about this predicament.

“What are you doing, let me go! I… You see, I was just going for a brisk stroll. Why are you taking me home? Let me down, father!” Brian whined. Brian’s father always decided to show up at the most inconvenient of times.

“Brian, your mother told me that you’ve been running away from her. You locked yourself from her in your room last night. Is that right?” Father said.

“Yes… Maybe.” Brian muttered. Maybe to mother and father, he had given up. But Brian wasn’t quite done yet. He felt around his pocket, checking again for Orange. He had planned something that would put a definite end to all of this. His father placed him on the grass in the front yard, his mother looking on in the front door frame. She leaned against it, watching Brian and father. Father crouched down to Brian’s height.

“Alright Brian, it’s time to hand over the orange now. You know this isn’t normal.” His father said. Brian stood, his eyes darting between his mother and father, all the while smirking over how brilliant his plan was. “Of course, father. Let me get it for you.” Brian slowly said, and reached in his pocket, taking the long-awaited fruit out.

“I’m sorry, Orange. But I must do this. For you, and for me.” Brian spoke. He was sure his parents hadn’t caught on quite yet. Brian, in a flurry of hands, peeled Orange, with great regret but out of need, and in one big gulp ate Orange. Juice ran down his face. It tasted funny, it being rotten and all. Chewing the moldy bits was certainly unpleasant. But it was necessary. Brian had a huge grin on his face, having finally outsmarted his parents. It was over. No one could take Orange now, could they?


End file.
